


The Key to the Forest lies in the Ocean

by Thranduil_is_a_bitchking



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Multi, i don't even know where this came from
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thranduil_is_a_bitchking/pseuds/Thranduil_is_a_bitchking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has been lying to everyone. Lying about who he is, where he came from. Jack... Jack just wants the truth, but will the truth will be more painful than the lies?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Key to the Forest lies in the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> So I was on holiday in Tenerife and I wrote this because the hotel didn't have wifi... I implore you to take this with a pinch of salt, not because there are demons, but because I'm not sure if this works very well... 
> 
> Your thoughts are always appreciated, and I'd love to know what you think of this :)
> 
> As always,   
> Enjoy :)

"Yo ho, all together, hoist the colours high. Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die." Will hummed, crossing his legs languidly as the Black Pearl rocked back and forth, scraping a knife across the wood in his hands. The sun beat down heavily onto the deck, but he paid it no heed, content to sit and whittle. The seas were calm, there was a fair wind and all in all, Will was having a good day. In what felt like no time at all, the wood was crafted into a long shaft, and he pulled a metal tip out of his pocket and attached it onto one end. Holding it between two fingers he tested its balance. Once he'd found it to be satisfactory, he added the feathers for stability. 

"What you makin' there laddie?" Gibbs asked, scratching his greying beard. In his hands, Will held a finished arrow, perfect in every way. "What you doin' that for? We got rifles and pistols and canons! You 'ain't gonna need one of those flimsy things." He commented once he'd realised what it was.

"My father taught me how, a long time ago. It helps me feel closer to him." Will replied, turning the arrow in his hands and putting it in his satchel. Gibbs nodded understandingly, though he was a little confused as to why old Bootstrap would teach his son how to make an arrow. "Is Barbosa still on board?" 

"Aye, we changed our course yesterday. Still dead set on findin' tha' treasure he is."

"What treasure?"

"An ol' chest on some island. Legend has it tha' people came 'ere from the other side, and the key to gettin' there is in that treasure. Barbosa 'opes that he can find it first an' sell it for an high price." Gibbs said, leaning forward as if he was parting with a great secret.

"Is that wise?" Will asked, running hand through his hair. Gibbs noted that his fingers continued even after his hair had stopped, as if he was used to it being longer. The elder shrugged in response, lighting a pipe. Will sighed and went back to his woodwork, the scraping of the knife blending with the sound of the sea.

The next few days were more or less the same, calm waters, Jack and Barbosa engaging in their stupid competition, Elizabeth practising her sword technique with Gibbs, the crew bouncing round as if they'd had too much sugar, the usual really. It was a pattern of wake up, eat, tend to the boat, sit around, eat, sit around some more, sleep, wake up and so on and so forth until one evening, as they were nearing the island they were apparently looking for, a wave that was easily the size of a small house crashed into the side of the ship, sending everyone flying into the side of the deck, hanging onto the railing for dear life. The Pearl tipped dangerously to one side before the weight of the masts and everyone on it pulled it further. The ship seemed to balance at an angle, so precarious that if anyone moved they'd all be making better acquaintances with Davy Jones. No one breathed for a good minute, and time seemed to stand still. Jack's head snapped sideways, eyes following a canon ball that had come loose. It rolled across the floor and hit the railing with a thunk. Nothing happened and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Then a creak sounded out, and the ship began to tilt. Within seconds, the masts had swung round and the crew and cargo were sent into the sea. Will grabbed the closest person to him, which happened to be Elizabeth, and hauled her up and onto a floating barrel. They clung on, breathing heavily as the remainder of the crew scrambled to grab onto something. 

"It's not too far! We can swim!" Barbosa's voice sounded from the front of the wreckage, partially drowned out by the ship suddenly flipping back the right way, but thanks to the current, they were closer to the island than the Pearl. Everyone, in various stages of denial, agreed with their captain and began to swim ashore. They collapsed onto the beach, tired and wet, letting the sun warm them. Even though they were in the Caribbean, the waters were still quite cold. Standing, Jack offered a hand out to Will, which he took. Soon they were all trudging through the sands and into the forest, hoping to find shelter and fresh water for the night. They found a small cave with a stream running past it and Gibbs lit a fire once the matches had dried out. Will volunteered to go and get some more firewood, and walked out into the forest. Once he was far enough away, he took in a deep breath and ran his hands over the bark of a tree. They were foreign, but they spoke to him just the same. He'd missed it, the calm of the forest, the small animals, the smell of the air. It was nice to be in a healthy forest, one that wasn't filled by the darkness that had eclipsed his homeland. With a sigh, he set off to find firewood and made his way back, having spent almost an hour walking through the trees. Dropping the wood to the floor, he sat down next to Jack. 

"What's bothering you?" The pirate asked in between mouthfuls of some meat or another, turning a concerned eye to the brown haired man beside him. 

"It's nothing." Will replied, running the tips of his fingers over the arrow in his bag. Jack gave him an incredulous look. 

"Gibbs told me you spoke of your father. Do you miss him?" Jack asked, eyes full of sympathy. Will nodded. He missed his father dearly, more so recently than before. It had been a long time since they'd parted and he longed to see him again. "It must be terrible, seeing your father down there but being unable to help him." Jack said, hand coming to rest on Will's knee in a gesture of comfort.

"What?" Will asked, forgetting for a moment. "Oh, yes, yes I suppose it is." He finished. Before Jack could reply, a falcon flew into the cave, screeching loudly before landing next to Will. The man ruffled the bird's feathers affectionately and took the small piece of paper from its leg. A small smile crossed his face, and he took some meat from Jack, a rabbit someone had hunted earlier probably, and threw it to the falcon. The bird chirped and jumped up to catch it. He then said something in a language no one but the bird seemed to understand. The falcon flew up and perched on a large rock behind Will and began to clean itself, straightening its feathers with its beak. Finding itself unsuccessful, it flew back down and landed next to Will. The man seemed to get the idea, and began to run his fingers through the bird's primaries. Jack stole a look at the paper the falcon had brought Will while the other was busy, but all he saw were curved lines and dots. How that was language to anyone, he didn't know. He settled back to watch his friend preen the bird's feathers with the utmost care, long fingers running through the soft down, straightening the feathers with expert precision. The bird stayed all night, slept next to Will and almost bit Jack's hand off when he went to touch it. Will laughed at the pirate's reaction - which was to spout about twenty curses - and ruffled the bird's feathers affectionately. The falcon seemed to preen under the other's attention, and turned what Jack would only call a mocking eye towards him. That was a ridiculous thought, though, birds weren't clever enough to mock, but there the bird was, getting more attention from the the ex-blacksmith than he'd ever gotten in his life. So engrossed in his self-pity, he almost missed Will get up and leave, the falcon perched happily on his arm. Everyone else was asleep, and so Jack was the only person that noticed Will leave with less noise than death. Jack followed the man through the forest and into a clearing, where the damned falcon flew up and into the trees. Just when Jack had thought he'd gotten rid of the blasted thing, it came back and behind it, a man. Will smiled as the man approached, and smile more genuine than Jack had ever seen crossed his face when the man embraced him.

"Well met Estel." Will said as he pulled back. "I trust my father sent you."

"Indeed he did, meleth nín." The man replied. Jack stood back, shock overcoming him. Bootstrap Bill sent this man? He was in Davy Jone's crew, there was no way he could've gotten word out to his son. "He regrets he could not be here in person, but there were things he had to deal with. Namely, the issue of your crew searching for the key. It won't be long before they realise that your father has sent them on a wild goose chase."

"Tell him it is of no consequence, I will probably see him before then anyway." Will shrugged. The falcon flew back into the clearing and dived down behind a tree, screeching loudly. Jack was ripped out of his shock by the bird flying inches away from his face. He cried out, and the other's heads snapped to the side, the man Will was talking with coming over and pulling Jack out by the collar. "Jack?!" 

"I take it you know him?"

"Yes." Was all Will said, lifting his arm so that the falcon could perch on it. 

"Who's your friend here?" Jack asked.

"It is no business of yours Jack." Will replied. "Take Ancalimon back to my father, tell him I send my love." He said to the man he was with, passing the reluctant bird over. The man bowed his head slightly and left, seeming disappearing into the trees. Once he was gone, Will rounded on Jack. "What in the name of the Valar are you doing here and why were you following me?"

"I saw you leave-"

"And you saw fit to follow me?"

"Well I'm not the one lying to everyone!" Jack shouted for lack of a better comeback, unsure why the situation made him so completely, irrationally angry.

"You won't find it Jack." Will said rather cryptically before brushing himself off and leaving, walking all the way back to the edge of the forest and onto the beach. Barbosa was rallying everyone to get back onto the Pearl; having seemingly decided that, after reading the maps more thoroughly, this was the wrong island. 

"Will! Will, where have you been?" Elizabeth exclaimed, running over to him. Always one for the dramatics was Elizabeth, he thought as he smiled back at her. "Have you seen Jack?"

"I'm sure he's about." Will replied. No sooner had he spoken, Jack emerged from the tree line. "See?"

Soon, they were all back upon the Pearl, sailing east into the rising sun. By midday, everyone was back to their normal routines, Jack keeping one eye always on Will. Barbosa seemed to know exactly where he was going, and they were at full speed ahead, predicted to reach their destination within two days. The waters got darker and darker as they approached, and everyone was uneasy when the sky began to follow the same pattern, eventually eclipsing the sun in an everlasting darkness. Torches and lamps were the only source of light and cold wrapped around them with the embrace of a ghost. Soon, the only sounds were the creaking of the ship gliding through the water and the whispers of the crew. The screech of a falcon drew everyone's attention, the small glass canister it was holding landing in Will's outstretched hand. With all eyes on him, he read the message.

*A storm is brewing.* 

Then, the clap of thunder exploded into the air and lightning lit up the sky. Rain poured down from the darkness, icy bullets freezing everyone to the core. Wind ripped at the sails while waves crashed into the ship, throwing many off balance. 

"Hold 'er steady lads! This storm's a bad 'un!" Barbosa boomed, clinging onto the wheel and turning it sideways. The ship swung violently to the left, sending all but one lamp crashing to the floor and Will struggled to see anything but the open ocean.

"Only in darkness, can one one truly see light." He murmured, surprising both Elizabeth and Jack when he effortlessly swung up and onto the rigging with a knife between his teeth. In one swipe, the rope holding the lamp was cut. The lamp fell to the floor only to be covered in water, extinguishing the flame. The ship fell into darkness, the only light coming from the paper in Will's pocket. Hooking his arm around the rope, Will read the letters that were glowing in the darkness, blinking the rain from his eyes. Smiling, he swung down and handed the paper to Barbosa. 

"Coordinates? Who be giving us coordinates?" He asked, getting out a compass and a map, struggling to see anything in the darkness. After consulting the map, the compass and then the map again, they were on their way, sailing through the storm and rough seas for almost five days. By the time they'd reached their destination, the third island they'd tried, everyone was cold, tired and fed up. Getting into the row boats, Jack, Elizabeth, Will, the one eyed man and his friend - no one knew nor remembered their names - and Barbosa made their way to the shore, the sand cold beneath their feet. 

"If it is the key you seek, follow me." A hooded figure said. The being seemed to glow in the darkness, its pale skin and long auburn hair illuminated by the torch it held on the end of some sort of staff. The man, if it was a man, turned and walked into the forest. Barbosa followed, along with everyone else. They walked for what felt like hour on a path through the forest. They came to a cave, the entrance guarded by two other cloaked figures. Suspicious, they kept one hand on their pistols and one on their swords at all times, wary of these seemingly otherworldly beings. They were led downwards and into an open space, bridges of wood crisscrossing over sparkling water, the torchlight making the water almost glow. In the centre, sat on a throne of carved wood, sat a being of myth, of legend. 

There before their very eyes sat the Elvenking.


End file.
